


Souls on Fire

by orangina



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Biting, Canon, M/M, Rough Sex, Slut Shaming, Spanking, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 07:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8741407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangina/pseuds/orangina
Summary: Kris goes into heat during a game.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this a couple weeks ago and I thought it sucked but I'll post it anyway because bad Bryzzo is better than no Bryzzo.
> 
> [Warnings are in the tags. If you don't like those things I suggest you don't read this.]

The last time Kris’ suppressants had failed, he’d been back in Las Vegas with his family, which was absolute torture—for Anthony, that is.

All the texts he’d get day after day of Kris complaining about the pain and begging for help, and all Anthony could do was coax him through it while jacking off to the sound of Kris’ moans over the phone. How Anthony would’ve loved to be there. They could’ve run off together and rented a hotel in some majestic place, and Anthony would’ve fucked him senseless without the slightest bit of guilt whenever he needed it while the Pacific waves lashed at the shore in the background, or the elegant mystery of the Rockies enclosed them in an unlatched kind of privacy. The idea of walking around for a week with both a consistent hard on and someone—his best friend, of all people—who needed a good fuck was all too appealing for an unmated alpha. If that wasn’t the definition of heaven, then Anthony didn’t know what was.

But, reality got in the way of fantasy, as reality always tends to do.

Still unmated, Anthony’s secret desire was to bite an omega, bonding them forever. He’d come to the disappointing realization months ago that that omega wasn’t likely to be Kris, whose suppressants allowed him to live a heat-free life. Most of the time. Because right now, while he was fielding at first base, trying to psych Bryce Harper out of stealing second, that beautiful smell started to hit his nostrils. A sweet, sweet familiar scent that sent all of Anthony’s blood straight to his dick.

The screams of the crowd turned into a dull hum, the bright sun stopped being so noticeable, and Anthony became suddenly unconcerned about Harper as his sense of smell turned into the only important one.

Kris was on the bench, having been left out of the lineup because he wasn’t feeling well. How could Anthony have been so stupid?! Kris was in heat, and here Anthony was, playing mind games with Harper at first base, while his best friend was vulnerable. And who even knew how many alphas were lurking in the stands today, alphas whose intentions weren’t good?

Anthony had to get out of the game. Fast. Kyle was struggling at the mound, having already walked Werth and given up a single to Harper. He couldn’t wait until the inning was over. What kind of feat could he pull to help out Kris?

Apparently, Harper noticed Anthony’s internal struggle (not to mention the erection) and shot him a look. “Whoa there,” Harper said.

Anthony scowled, and Harper smirked.

“He’s in heat. I need to get out of here,” Anthony said, lowering his voice so that only Harper could hear.

Comprehension flashed across Bryce’s face. “Don’t move or I might actually hurt you,” he said, and then he shuffled away from the plate.

“Thanks, dude.”

Anthony braced himself for contact. He wasn’t sure how hard Bryce would actually go at him, but it had to be enough to seem legitimate. Kyle was winding up to pitch now, and Bryce kept moving, his hands still on his knees. Suddenly, Kyle spun around and the baseball was whipping towards Anthony at the same time Bryce was.

He wasn’t sure where the first impact was—the ball in his glove, or Bryce’s cleat on his ankle. Whatever it was, he let his instincts take over, the sweet aroma still torturing his nostrils, and ended up on his ass in the dirt. Okay, it actually did hurt a _little_ bit, but not as much as he had to milk it. He grabbed his ankle and rolled around a bit, much like professional soccer players did whenever they got tackled and wanted a free kick, then pushed himself up and hobbled around a bit, trying to make it seem like he was in severe pain and couldn’t continue. He didn’t care how pathetic it was; this was for Kris.

It worked.

\---

“It’s good, just need some ice,” Anthony repeated impatiently to anyone who asked while he pushed his way back to the med room, where he assumed Kris would be smart enough to already be waiting for him. He might’ve accidentally forgotten to hobble a bit on his way, but oh well. Awkward explanations were a future-Anthony problem and probably could easily be taken care of with a bit of booze.

The smell was getting stronger, and Anthony was getting hornier. He burst into the room and was greeted with the beautiful sight of Kris lying across the cot with his hand in his pants.

“Please help me…”

Anthony made a scene of walking slowly over to the side of the cot and folding his hands behind his back. “Couldn’t wait for me, you little slut?”

“Please just help me,” Kris begged. His skin was flushed, beads of sweat sliding down the side of his face, his eyes filled with pain and pleading. “You know I can’t do this by myself.”

“Why does it have to be me? We’re not mated, are we? There’s plenty of alphas here today…”

“Anthony, for fuck’s sake, please!”

As much as Anthony was enjoying himself, the desperation in the omega’s voice and eyes was strong enough to overcome the power struggle. Plus, Anthony’s dick was throbbing right out of his pants. He needed this too.

“Alright,” Anthony said calmly. “If you beg for it, I’ll fuck you. But you have to beg for it. Being the little whore you are, I don’t think that’ll be too hard.”

Kris grimaced, his teeth straining against a scream. “Please. Bite me.”

“You want me to bite you? You sure about that?” Anthony said, trying to keep the smoothness in his voice, but also succumbing to the emotion. _Bite me_. If Anthony bit him, they would be mated, and Kris would be more than just an omega—he would be _Anthony’s_ omega.

With the emotion of a man needing to protect and the superstrength of an alpha going through a rut, Anthony flipped Kris over so he was on his back, climbing up onto the cot behind him. He tore off Kris’ uniform first and then his own dirty one, flinging them onto the floor. Electricity surged through his muscles, and he slapped each one of Kris’ pale ass cheeks until bright red hand prints blossomed on each of them. The smell was getting evermore intense, sweeter and sweeter. Anthony pushed Kris’ ass cheeks apart with one hand and stuck his finger in Kris’ hole, adding more fingers as he stretched it out. So wet, so slick. So much slick. So sexy.

“Oops, that’s a little too much slick, don’t you think? Better get rid of some of that before I fuck you.”

Kris whimpered in response. Anthony dove down, nudging his way between Kris’ cheeks and started to rim. He moved his tongue as quickly as he could, causing Kris to wiggle around excessively. Anthony shot up, giving Kris another hard slap on the ass. “Hey. Keep still or I’ll tie you down.”

“Just fuck me, you alpha bitch,” Kris groaned.

“Oh my. Someone needs to be punished for that naughty language. Get up on your hands and knees.”

Anthony wrapped his hands around Kris’ waist, pulling him up roughly and shoving his rock hard cock against his ass. He started off slow, not wanting to hurt the omega, then gradually sped up till the only sounds in the room were those of skin slapping against skin and grunts.

“More more more…” Kris panted.

Anthony reached around and rubbed Kris’ cock quickly, still pounding in and out of him. Kris’ grunts turned into shouts that didn’t resemble any sort of recognizable speech sounds, and then those shouts turned into Anthony’s name. It sounded so gorgeous coming out of Kris’ mouth, triggering more of Anthony’s emotional side. He slowed down suddenly, holding himself to come inside of Kris, then pulled out one final time. Kris came seconds later.

There was one more thing Anthony needed to do.

It was easy to push down a weakened Kris, and Anthony lay himself down next to the satisfied omega.

“Look at me,” Anthony said. “You did such a good job. You okay?”

Kris nodded vigorously, too out of breath to say anything. Then Anthony closed the final gap between them, smashing their lips together and kissing him hard. Two sweaty, exhausted bodies became one. Anthony raked his fingers through Kris’ damp hair, clamping him in place so he wouldn’t jump around for the important part.

He moved his mouth up Kris’ cheek and then trailed kisses down his jaw, each kiss progressively turning into more of a nibble until he reached his neck.

So, so inviting.

Anthony opened his mouth wide, pulling his lips up, and then clamped down on that perfect flesh. Quick and painless, not too hard. Kris yelped and hugged Anthony so tight that it was hard to breathe. He tasted the droplets of blood as they began to form, hot and salty and delicious. He licked his lips.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Perfect,” Kris murmured.

“It’s over now. It’s all over. You’re safe now. I’ll keep you safe. You’re mine.”

 _He’s mine_ —saying the words aloud was so easy.

“We’re soulbonded,” Kris agreed.

_He’s my omega._

\---

It didn’t take long for the bleeding to trickle to a halt. The bite hadn’t been any harder than it needed to be; still, neither of them wanted anyone else to see it. They quickly redressed and had finished doing so just in time for Grandpa Rossy to come in.

“What are you doing here?” Anthony said, startled.

“The game’s over. But of course, you two wouldn’t know cause you were too busy having sex. Priorities.” David smiled.

“Aw, come on Gramps, cut Bryzzo some slack,” Kris said. “I mean, Rizz over here has hurt his ankle very badly…”

“Yeah. Very badly. This one’s a real kicker. Ouch,” Anthony said, balancing very obviously on both his feet and throwing an arm around Kris’ shoulders. “And Bryant’s got herpes.” He grinned innocently and felt Kris doing the same.

David gave them his signature scolding grandpa glare, but it quickly faded into a look of sympathy when his eyes wandered upon Kris’ bruised neck. “Oh,” he said. “Okay. I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone, then. And lock the door next time maybe, yeah?”

“If you say so, Gramps,” Kris said while Anthony blew out a breath of relief.

They were safe, for now.

\---

“Really? _Herpes?!_ You couldn’t think of anything else?”

“Hey, calm down. Gramps knew we were bullshitting him. And I assume herpes _would_ make it hard to play baseball…”

“You know what else would make it harder to play baseball?” Kris said, stepping close enough to take full advantage of his height over Anthony. “If I—”

“So how’s your ass?” Anthony interrupted casually, moving back towards the cot and sitting down.

“I would slap your face right now if it wasn’t so pretty.”

“No, seriously, come here. How is it?” Anthony grew somber and held out his arm so that Kris would sit next to him.

“It’s fine, Anthony.”

“Really, really fine? This is permanent, you know.”

“I am aware,” Kris said while Rizz tucked his head onto his shoulder. Kris rubbed his hair. “You’re the wimpiest alpha I know, by the way. Look at you.”

“Kay, Bryant. I’ll remember that the next time you go into heat.”

\---

Anthony and Kris joined the rest of the team in the locker room. Nobody asked questions, and Anthony assumed it was partially because of the godsend that was Grandpa Rossy and partially because nobody really _wanted_ to ask why Kris was walking like he’d sat on a porcupine. Surely, though, the questions would come later once everyone was boozed up enough.

(The Cubs won that day.)


End file.
